


Smoke & Mirrors

by TrashCollector



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dom!Grillby, F/M, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Pacifist Route, Racism, Reader Is Not Frisk, Sans is a terrible wingman, Self-Insert, reader is female, you're gonna frick the bonfire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashCollector/pseuds/TrashCollector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elementals are dangerous, bred for a war long past and long lost. Their purpose gone and nothing left to fight for, most died off after being sealed underground. Grillby long since found his peace. He had his bar. He had his friends. And most importantly, he had everything under control.</p><p>Then you showed up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fired Up

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping right into the smut. Not sure if that's good or bad. Either way, this is unbeta'd and I only have a general outline of a plot around a lot of sex, so you're in for a ride!

Grillby wondered, not for the first time, how you might feel. How much of the you under those thick sweaters was you and not fabric. He'd seen other humans, of course, in embarrassing states of undress, no less. They were on the television, plasters onto billboards, but they weren't you. And god, how he wanted you.

He shifted, twisting in the bedsheets. Sleep should have come hours ago, but...his cock twitched and he flinched, another unbidden thought of you, naked and on your knees, mouth open to catch- Grillby sighed, a crackling hiss in the air.

Half eager, half disappointed in himself, he lay back, tossing off the sheets with a deft kick as his hand came up to rub roughly against the aching bulge between his legs. You were easy to imagine, he'd done it so many times before. This time you already undressed, save for your shirt, pushed up over your breasts to let Grillby grab and knead at the soft skin, giving your taut nipples the occasional flick or twist. Not hard, just enough to get you to cry out, and grind down harder against his waiting cock. He wouldn't give it to you yet though. Not until you asked. Not until you begged.

Grillby wrapped his hand around his dick, shoving the waistband of his pants down with the other. The colder air of the room washed over his thick length and he gasped, squeezing himself as a small droplet of precum beaded at the tip. Mindlessly, he used his thumb to smear it over the head of his cock, slowing working himself towards the edge.

In his mind, you were already pleading, your skin flushed with exertion as he rocked against your folds. “Gri-ilby, oh fuck, oh please, o-oh, I need it, need you, more p-please, more.” Your nails scraped over his chest, leaving small trails of low flicking flames that slowly hissed out as you grabbed at his chest, his hands, anything to ground you as your hips bucked hard into his. He smiled indulgently, lifted you slightly and let gravity sink you deep onto his erection. He kept his hands on your hips as you leaned forward, gripping the sheets and finding your balance and finally, finally moving. His hips thrust up to meet yours as you rode him, your sweet voice calling out his name between gasps and moans.

He pumped his cock harder, hips rising of the bed in time to your imagined movements against him. His hand was slick with precum, his tip leaking still more. Each stroke of his hand squeezed out another thin rivulet that trickled down his cock. Grillby sped up, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth. He needed more. Just a little more. So he could...he could...

His hips rolled against yours as the fire being drank in your sounds. Every little cry or plead over the wet slap of flesh against flesh. Oh, but you were close. He could feel it in the way your body was tensing, your hands gripping his like a vice. You just needed a little push. So he reached, your hand still on his wrist, to palm at your breast, to thumb your nipple as you bounced on his cock, and then he grabbed and with a sharp twist, you came undone around him with a scream. Your walls tugged at him, pulling for something he was more than happy to provide.

With a hoarse shout, Grillby came, though not in you, as he craved. His cum, thick ropes of white and molten gold, splattered out onto his chest and sheets. The monster slumped back into the mattress, feeling...empty. He was tired now, and if he were honest, disgusted with himself. To think that way about a friend, to let himself go like that, again. He couldn't even enjoy the afterglow. But at least he'd get some sleep after he cleaned up.

When he first noticed his attraction to you he tried to block it out, exhaust himself with work so he could 'cool down'. God, he really was spending too much time with Sans. When that failed, he tried getting out more, taking in more of the wonders of the Aboveground. He even saw a few movies with Sans (all of them terrible). That attempt ended in failure as well. You were constant, an incessant presence in his mind.

But it wasn't safe, he insisted to himself. To be friends with a human was one thing, but what he wanted was more. Too much more for someone like you. So brilliant. So fragile. And he'd be damned if he was the one to make that smile of yours falter.

 

 

 

It was Wednesday evening, and Wednesdays meant Grillby's. You weren't sure how it had become a 'thing', but you had been going every week like clockwork for the past several months. It wasn't long after the bar-and-grill opened, and at first you just went to check it out with some monster co-workers who swore by the place. A few weeks later, you went back alone. After all, it was close enough to work that you could walk, and you had yet to meet a monster that wasn't kind to you.

In fact, the only unkind thing about monsters were some human's reactions to them. News about hate groups and attempted segregation laws had dominated the papers and TVs when the monsters first surfaced, but that was over a year ago. Honestly, once things had died down, nothing about day to day life had really seemed to change that much, except sometimes your cashier at the grocery store was an enthusiastic talking cat...thing, and your apartment's maintenance man was now a literal magician.

You supposed elsewhere things have more tense, but Ebott City had the highest concentration of monsters on the planet. Most of those who didn't like it had moved away, leaving a small minority left in a city where monsters and humans generally got along. As for you personally...

You wondered, not for the first time, why they kept your office so cold. The least they could do was let you keep the feeling in your fingers while you worked with...whatever this was. You checked your notes. Ancient pottery shards. Well...you guessed they sort of looked...bowlish. Good God, the cold was freezing your brain.

You turned in your swivel chair and scooted across the small, crated-off area you called your office. It was actually just a section of the large storage room where all the exhibits not on display were kept and maintained, or where new arrivals were cleaned up and archived. That's where you came in. It was more interesting than being a secretary, you thought, though a lot of your job was still paperwork. Speaking of which! You dropped your notes, as well as the information the shards came with, into a plastic bag and taped it to the front of the small padded box the shards came in. Pottery replaced and the box re-sealed, your job was done for the day. And it was about time, you were late!

You jogged down to the curators office, leaving the box and it's apparently precious contents on his desk. It wasn't quite proper protocol, but it was seven at night, and you were supposed to have left at five!

The cool evening air was actually a relief from the cold of the storage room, and a few stars were already peeking out. It was the start of a good night, you hoped. You smiled as you bounced down the steps of the museum where you worked.

“__________!” You grinned as you were greeted by the dogs, already well into their poker game. You paused to give Greater Dog a solid scratch behind the ears and a cheerful hello to the rest before making your way to 'your' spot in the bar. The seat to your left was already taken, of course, by your favorite set of bones (besides your own, you guessed).

“Hey there _____,” the skeleton named Sans greeted you casually, tipping his ketchup bottle at you in greeting, “Good thing you showed up, Grillby was getting all fired up, worried you got hit by a bus or had one of those statue things you work with fall on you.”

You snorted ungracefully as you slid into your seat, “And miss our weekly chat? Never. Work was just...busy. We're getting up some stuff from the Underground now. Nothing huge or anything, but a few monsters have donated some things so there's a lot for me to sort through. A lot of it is old human stuff though, I was really surprised.”

“Heh, well,” Sans smiled seems a little forced to you now, “We worked with what we got.”

Oh. How stupid of you. While the monsters were Underground, they had little choice but to scavenge from what the humans threw away. Sans caught your expression, and his semi-permanent grin hitched back up to a more genuine smile.

“Forget about it, kid,” he took a long drink from the bottle, “It's _bin_ a while since we made it up top, don't start feeling _rubbish_ about something you couldn't even help.” You cracked a smile in spite of yourself and rolled your eyes, but Sans was already looking past you to the entrance to the kitchen. “Heeeey, Grilbz, told ya she'd make it!”


	2. A Slow Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to talk a bit more with Sans, and Grillby loses his cool for a second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I really wasn't expecting such a large response, but I'm so very happy this story has been so well received. I hope I can live up to your expectations!  
> No sexy times this chapter, but there should be some coming soon (pun completely intended).  
> In the meantime, you can find me at [my Tumblr](http://www.mostlynaked-probablyporn.tumblr.com) here if you want. Now, on with the show!

When you first met Grillby, you were surprised and more than a little alarmed that there was a walking fire working at a bar. It had taken two of your coworkers, a shy little Whimsum and a peaceful Vulkin, to settle you down in your seat and assure you that yes, this was both normal and fine.

 

Grillby, you were told, was a different kind of monster called an elemental. There weren't many of them Underground when the monsters were all freed, only two or three, but they were all very old and very strong, with a high LV. You had pressed for more information, like what LV was, but it seemed to make your coworkers uncomfortable, so you had dropped the subject. Every time you thought about it, you considered checking the internet, or even the library for more information. You never remembered by the time you were home. Too busy thinking about tall, dark and smoky. Ok, so you had a weird little crush. A weird little crush that was standing right in front of you, eyebrow raised.

 

You twisted on your bar stool to give the bartender a cheery wave, “Hi Grillby, I'm here, safe and sound.” When the fire monster tilted his head in question, you continued, “Sans was telling me you thought I was hit by a bus because I was so late.”

 

Grillby's flames jumped a little higher, a flash of blue lighting up his face as he turned to glare at the offending (and unrepentant) skeleton.

 

“No, no, it's fine!” You waved your hand to regain Grillby's attention, “It's kinda nice, actually. To have someone worried about me. Not that I wanted you to worry, but, you know...” you trailed off, hoping he did know. To your surprise, Grillby reached over the bar and gave your hair a quick ruffle. “Aw, all's forgiven then?” You flushed a bright red and ducked your head with a giggle as Grillby flashed an affirmative thumbs up.

 

“welp, if you two are done flirtin'...” Sans was giving you the slyest side-eye you'd ever seen as he waggled a brow-bone up and down, “how's about you get some food in you and give me latest on that guest marine exhibit you've got coming in. i've got a few friends who _fish_ to see it when it opens _._ ”

 

You were sure you were glowing as bright as Grillby as you tried to push Sans off his stool. He, of course, knew all about your stupid crush. For someone who professed to be so lazy, he sure was perceptive. And hard to move. Grillby was already gone (presumably to get you your 'usual') by the time you gave up dislodging the skeleton, launching instead into the latest stories of scene setting, fish bone construction, and fucking Becky losing the transfer paperwork again.

 

 

 

Back in the kitchen, Grillby was disappointed in himself. You weren't _required_ to come here every Wednesday, of course. Much less right after you got off work. But as the minutes had ticked by and ten turned into twenty, and twenty turned into forty past your usual arrival time, the elemental had become more and more agitated. You were an adult and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, he knew, but _you should have been here by now,_ and...and...Grillby had to stop and take a deep breath trying stop that line of thought before it finished, but it slithered through anyway, dark and possessive, ' _and you belonged there with him.'_

 

But he had no right to think that, Grillby argued with himself, no claim on you at all. You ate his food. That was all. That was enough. It had to be. Oddly, the thought soothed the elemental. He was providing for you, in a way, by feeding you. Using that to mollify himself, he clamped down on those burning instincts to _find_ and _keep_ and _own_.

 

With no other acceptable alternative, Grillby set his jaw and continued to work, checking the door and the clock every few minutes as he served patrons and cleared tables. And of course, Sans had to notice, occasionally offering lines like “keep starin' and you'll melt a hole in the door,” or “you must really think she's hot stuff, getting all worked up like this.”

 

Grillby was ready to cremate the short skeleton by the time you actually arrived, despite Sans' assurances that he was _“just ribbin' ya grilbz.”_ But you had made it, looking tired but cheerful.

 

And, even better, you hadn't reacted in fear when he reached to touch you.  Probably that you'd flinch away, at least. Humans, he recalled, had an innate fear of fire. But you looked a little too apologetic under Grillby's gaze, and your ears and cheeks had started to turn that odd reddish color that he thinks means you were embarrassed. Grillby had just wanted to soothe that concern. And you hadn't moved away. You even smiled at his touch. And your hair was so soft, softer than Lesser Dogs fur even. It was something he could get used to touching. It would be nice to let it run through his fingers, and there was probably enough, he could easily get a handful of it and- Something warm curled in the elementals' stomach and he felt a little bit of his resolve crack away. Perhaps he could dare to touch you more often? He'd be careful though, he promised himself. You were fragile, he reminded himself. The way he wanted to touch you would be too much. Perhaps he could settle, he hoped to himself.

 

Resolve re-set, he slid your meal deftly onto a plate and, grabbing a spare ketchup bottle since Sans tended to horde all the ones left out, emerged from the back.

 

You were talking animatedly about the local museums plans, though you paused to thank Grillby for the food. His really were the best burgers and fries in the city, and you made sure to tell him every time you came.

 

Though he wanted to stay and listen to you talk...he had a bar to run. With no little reluctance, he went back to work. The night wore on, Grillby stopping to check on you, refill your drink, and bring you an extra order of fries when he discovered Sans kept stealing yours.

 

 

 

Three hours in, and you were ready to call it a night. Wednesdays at Grillby's was always a good time, but you had work. And so did Sans, you reminded him, not that he'd ever tell you what he actually did for a living.

 

“yeah, yeah, i'll go in a minute. gotta settle up my tab with grillby here.”

 

You laughed as Grillby shook his head. You both knew Sans never paid. You slid off your stool with less grace than you'd like, and fished for your wallet. It must have sunk to the very bottom of your purse, again. How big was your purse anyway, you felt like you were almost elbow deep in the stupid thing! You started as a sudden warmth bloomed across your shoulder, and a different kind of warmth abruptly curled in your stomach. Grillby has lightly placed his hand on your shoulder, but withdrew it quickly when you started.

 

“Oh! Oh, no, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting, I-I thought you were still behind the bar. Sorry, sorry, let my just get my wallet and-” Grillby shook his head. “I'm sorry, I don't...understand.”

 

You weren't sure if you were flushing due to embarrassment or because Grillby had...well, touched you. God, it sounded so silly to even think, but you had known him for a while now, and he didn't seem to be a very contact-prone person. Then again, if you were made of fire, you'd be more careful around others too. He didn't burn though. He was just comfortably warm, like a heating pad, or maybe a blanket straight from the dryer.

 

“He means you don't have to pay tonight.” Sans offered helpfully, jarring you out of your introspection. You turned to look at Grillby for confirmation. The elemental nodded again.

 

“Oh, no, please, I can't just not pay.” Grillby crossed his arms and looked at you sternly. Clearly, you weren't going to win this one. After a momentary standoff, you relented, “Fine, fine, you win. For now!” Grillby nodded, clearly pleased, and you let yourself deflate a little. “Thanks Grillby, have a good night. And you too Sans!” You cast a wave in the skeleton's general direction, Sans responding in kind as you took off into the crisp night air.

 

 

 

“so... you're tellin' me you aren't all into that?” Sans wiggled the tip of his fifth ketchup bottle at the door where you just exited. Grillby grit his teeth and leaned against the bar, shaking his head in a silent 'no'. The skeleton sighed loudly, an exaggerated show of relief, “oh good. didn't wanna be steppin' all over your toes. i figure if you're not into her, might as well see if she'd like a trip to the _bone zone_.”

 

That was enough. Before Grillby could stop himself, his flames crackled white, the sudden heat shattering the glass he was holding and washing over the room. The sudden silence hung in the air as all eyes turned towards the bar. Grillby raised his hands in contrite apology and set to cleaning the shattered glass. Slowly, the dull chatter of the rest of the bar resumed, focus re-shifting back to their individual conversations.

 

Sans just gave a knowing smile and winked, “atta boy. But maybe don't show her that trick in the bedroom, yeah?” Grillby sparked, an odd blue shade blooming over his face. Flustered, he grabbed your empty plate of fries and whisked it away into the kitchen.

 

Dropping the plate off by the sink for Woshua to clean, he then leaned heavily against the wall. What was he thinking, snapping at Sans like that? Of course it was just another one of his stupid jokes. Grillby knew, of course, why he had reacted so strongly. For just a moment, Sans had become a threat. Someone trying to take what he so very much wanted to claim as his.

 

Grillby sighed and told himself that he was just protective of you. As a friend. He was lying.

 


	3. Ocean Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plot and a lot of yelling happens.

It was showtime. You were pulled from the back, as usual with these events. Every new exhibit meant a special 'opening night', where those who bought advanced tickets or got a special invite were allowed a night visit to the museum and a first look at the show. You were glad you weren't stuck on food-table duty this time. Poor Becky drew the short straw, and so got to pour drinks and explain which finger sandwich had sliced turkey and which had sliced ham.

 

On the other hand, you were missing your standard chunky sweater and all dolled up in a semi-formal black dress and heels, set loose on the floor as an informal information provider. Also known as a glorified tour guide. But you loved it. You knew these exhibits front and back. After all, you organized them, labeled them, made sure things went where things were supposed to be. You were only one on a team of many, but with your help, another guest exhibit was up and ready to be seen. It gave you a sense of pride.

 

The doors had only just opened, so the crowd was light, mostly just the invited guests so far, all big contributors to the preservation of history, here to see what their money was really buying. The small crowd was probably a good thing though. Less heads to turn when a shriek whipped through the entrance hall.

 

“NYGAAAAH! ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS USED TO BE A FISH?!”

 

“O-oh, dear, um, n-no I don't think so, let me c-check...”

 

The source of the noise was a dark teal monster that looked very much like a fish herself, her mouth wide open and displaying an impressive set of sharkish teeth. She was staring up with a wide eye at the large whale skeleton suspended from the ceiling while a short, jittery looking dinosaur was fumbling around with one of the museums guidebooks.

 

Todd, the reclusive and people-shy museum director, didn't seem to know whether to look scandalized or terrified, and had settled on looking merely constipated. You swallowed your giggles as he cast his eyes around the room for help. None of your coworkers would meet his eye, and unfortunately you were right in his line of sight. So he stared at you. You thought the floor was very well polished this evening. The stare intensified. The walls looked good too, you wondered if they had been painted lately. Todd looked like his brain was about to hemorrhage.

 

Ok ok, the game was over. You met his gaze and smiled, watching him almost deflate with relief. You knew he didn't have a problem with monsters, hell, you were pretty sure he was dating a spider-monster. He did, however, have a problem with 'people' and 'loud' though, and that fish-woman was both.

 

“They're actually whale bones. It sure looks like a fish, but whales are actually water-dwelling mammals,” you offer cheerfully as you approached, “And welcome to the museum!”

 

The dinosaur hastily refolded the museum guide into a crumpled heap, flushing red as the fish woman eyed you with a smirk, one eye obscured by an eye patch, the other seeming to stare directly into your soul.

 

“You know a lot about this stuff?” the fish-woman asked roughly, squinting at you.

 

You kind of wanted to flinch away at the intensity of the stare, but managed to hold your ground, taking only a single step back. “I...I...yes, I helped set it up, so, uh, yes. “ You winced inwardly as you fumbled over your words, her stare making you nervous. This lady was intense!

 

“EXCELLENT!” You gasped as a scaly arm slung around your shoulder, forcing you into bending over lest your neck snap, “Then you can show us around the place! I got a bunch of questions and your guidebook is _lame_!”

 

“ _Undyne_!”

 

“Oh yeah! I'm Undyne, and this, this here is my girl Alphys!” Using her free hand to make a sweeping gesture toward the small yellow lizard, your captor beamed with pride.

 

“Nice to meet you, I'm _____.” You managed, “I guess I'm your tour guide for the evening.”

 

“EXCELLENT!”

 

You stumbled back as you were released from your vaguely tuna-smelling headlock, narrowly avoiding a tumble to the ground. You heaved in several lungs' worth of fresh air before straightening up. “Well, ahem, shall we?”

 

“Nah.” Undyne was looking around casually while her girlfriend mouthed the word 'sorry' at you, “We gotta wait for two more, I swear they were right behind us.”

 

As soon as she spoke, as though it were fate, the double doors swung open again, revealing a very tall, very excited skeleton. His scarf was scarf fluttering in the breeze almost heroically as he burst into the hall, a blue bag thrown over his shoulder.

 

“WE WOULD HAVE BEEN HERE SOONER BUT SANS FELL ASLEEP CLIMBING THE STAIRS!!”

 

“what can i say bro, i couldn't take another step.” the bag spoke.

 

“Wait, Sans? You mean _Sans_ , Sans?” you spoke up, leaning to the side to see if you could get a look at whatever the larger skeleton was carrying.

 

“NO, I AM NOT SANS SANS. HE IS RIGHT HERE!” With that, he lifted your friend off of his shoulder and plunked him on the ground. Yup, that was your bar-buddy alright, lazy smile and all. Which meant-

 

“Oh, you must be Papyrus! Sans has told me all about you!” You addressed the taller skeleton cheerfully and offered your hand. Eye-sockets gleaming, Papyrus was on you in an instant, his gloved hands wrapping around yours and a smile lighting up his face. Behind him, Sans gave you an appreciative thumbs-up.

 

“NYEH HEH HEH, I SEE YOU HAVE HEARD OF MY GREATNESS! YES, IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, COME TO LEARN ABOUT YOUR ABOVEGROUND OCEANS AND FISH AND OTHER WATER-BASED CREATURES!”

 

Oh my God he was precious. You couldn't help but return his smile, “Well, I will be happy to show all of you!”

 

 

 

With a bounce in your step, you took Sans and his friends, who were also now your friends (because Papyrus declared it to be so) though the marine exhibit, where they ooh-ed and aah-ed over relics of old ships, info-graphics of the oceans' depth, tanks of wave generators, several fossils and examples of marine life, including an angler fish that seemed to have a very Undyne-ish grin.

 

Alphys in particular asked several questions about almost everything on display. You were embarrassed to admit you couldn't answer some of them, but the yellow monster apologized for even asking! A small loop was created, where the both of you turned redder, each apologizing for asking and not knowing. It might have lasted all night had Undyne not loudly declared you both nerds and stomped off to the next display. You didn't have it in you to be insulted though, Undyne had a way of making the supposed insult sound affectionate.

 

As your impromptu private tour drew to a close and the lot of you spilled back into the main hall, Todd caught your eye and waved you over. Telling your new friends you'd just be a moment, you let yourself be pulled off to the side by your boss.

 

“Listen, ah, thanks for taking care of that. Them. Not like _them_ them, you know, they just seemed a little...rowdy to be left alone with- I mean, even the kids have tour groups, I don't mean-”

 

“Todd, please,” you held up your hands, stopping him before he could freak himself out to badly “It's fine. I know what you mean.”

 

He heaved a sigh of relief and smiled, “Right, right, sorry. Yes. Well, listen, I think we have enough help here, why don't you take the rest of the night off.”

 

“Sir, are you sure? It's not even -” you paused and looked at the clock. It was already past 10! Had you really been guiding them through for three hours?

 

Todd smiled, “You were here early for set up today and stayed late the past three days to get everything ready. Go on, you deserve it!”

 

You beamed, thanking your boss profusely.

 

“only seen a smile that big when i'm _patella'_ in you jokes, kid. what's up?” Sans raised a boney eyebrow at you as you returned.

 

“Sorry about all that. Todd just gave me the night off!”

 

“That's GREAT!” Undyne cheered, gaining some more looks from the noticeably larger crowd in the entrance hall, “You don't have any plans do you? You wanna come hang out with us?!”

 

Surprised but pleased at the offer, you smiled nervously, “I don't want to intrude, it's fine.” You offered, giving them a chance to...do what? Retract the invitation? They were a lot of fun, you would love to be friends with them, it's true, but they had just met you. What if they didn't like you when they really got to know you? After all, you knew you better than anyone, and there was a lot to dislike, in your opinion.

 

You were jerked from your self depreciating thoughts as small, sweet Alphys spoke up.

 

“W-we wouldn't offer i-i-if we didn't me-mean it.”She hesitantly reached out and patted your hand, “Y-you have a good SOUL. W-we monsters can, uh, can feel that...but, uh, if _you_ don't want to...”

 

“I'd love to!” you said quickly, before the two of you could play social-anxiety-tag again, “I'll just tag along with whatever you guy had planned though, I don't want to be a bother.”

 

Sans nodded slowly, eyeing you in your dress and heels. His eyelights flared mischeviously “sounds like a good time to me. tell you what, i'm starvin' over here. why don't we go to grillby's?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, no Grillby in this chapter. Plenty coming up though, just had to get some plot out of the way.
> 
> You can yell at me on my tumblr [here](http://www.mostlynaked-probablyporn.tumblr.com) if that's what you're into. Keep in mind it's NSFW.


	4. Kindling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You bond some more with your new friends, and forget about going home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I really, really didn't expect such a warm welcome to this fic, thank you all so much for being so awesome!

The trip to Grillby's was quick and easy, Papyrus only putting up a token protest. “IT'S NOT THAT THE FOOD IS _BAD,_ ” he had explained to you in a faux-whisper, “BUT IT IS GREASY AND BAD _FOR_ YOU.” But he still agreed to go, so long as everyone knew he was only going to bond with his new human friend.

 

*** 

 

The bar was much busier than you were used to, the Saturday night crowd a louder and more varied lot than on Wednesday evenings. There was a bird at the bar you had never seen before, and a pair of extremely sloshed bunnies at a booth in the corner, chattering excitedly with a sentient venus flytrap and a deer with tinseled antlers. At the far edge of the bar, a very tired looking cat-monster was sleeping amidst a cluster of empty beer mugs. There were other monsters too, tucked away at tables or hidden in booths. You could hear the cheerful conversation, but not see the speakers. The jukebox in the corner was turned up louder as well, playing something that you were pretty sure had the base-beat of The Munsters.

 

The majority of the patrons had turned towards you on upon your entrance, probably due to Undyne's method of entry ( _kicking open the door_ ) and her yell of “Let's get lit!” You trailed in with the rest of the group, throwing a hesitant smile and wave at the dogs ( _did they ever go home?_ ), who either waved back or barked enthusiastically, all tails wagging.

 

Such an exciting arrival had not gone unnoticed by the bartender either. Your arrival was surprising but not unwelcome, but your choice in clothing...shit. Grillby felt like he needed to sit down for a moment. Well, he knew what you looked like under those sweaters of yours now. And was a little irritated everyone else got to see you as well. You were clearly dressed up for something special. Or...someone? The elemental scowled. But no, wait. You had mentioned this Wednesday that you had to work the museum opening. He sagged against the bar with relief. Of course. And Sans would never take you out on a double-date with Papyrus in tow. Grillby paused. Well, actually, he might. But it didn't look like that was the case.

 

Grillby straightened up quickly as you approached the bar, waving your new friends off to find a booth.

 

“Hey Grillby! Uh, surprise, I guess? They let me off early, and everyone wanted to come here, so...” you cleared your throat nervously, “Uh, here we are.”

 

Grillby nodded dumbly. He could see your neck. He could see the graceful curve of your skin as it smoothed down to the hollow of your throat, and further still to the hint of cleavage your dress so graciously allowed him.

 

“Uhm, Grill...by? You ok?”

 

His shook his head, your voice shaking him out of his reverie. Something, he had to say something! He made a helpless sort of gesture towards your figure, ending it in a quick thumbs up. The elemental hoped you understood. To his relief, you flushed and spun in a small circle, letting the ends of the dress flare slightly at your movement.

 

“Thanks, it's a few years old, but it does the job. The heels are killer though!” you laughed as he flushed a light blue. He wanted to tell you no, you were beautiful, and that the dress didn't just 'do the job', you outshone any one, any day, but...you wouldn't understand him. There were ways, of course, but he had inquired before, through Sans help, and you didn't know sign language. You offered to learn, for his sake, but he had shook his head. No need to inconvenience you for him. He just wanted...so much. Too much to ask for. So instead, he leaned across the bar, and ruffled your hair.

 

You smiled back quizzically, but accepted his touch. For a being made of flame, his hands were surprisingly solid. His warmth dripped down your spine, but in the end left you oddly cold as he pulled away. Your hand twitched up, to grab his, to keep it there, but your friends were surely waiting, if not watching, and- oh shit.

 

“I forgot!” You blurted suddenly, startling yourself, Grillby, and the nearby patrons, “God, I'm sorry, everyone's waiting,” you covered your mouth with your hand, trying and failing to stifle your nervous giggles, “Everyone's order, Sans sent me up here to get everyone's drinks, Um, oh, now, Sans wanted ketchup, and Paps just wants tea,”

 

Grillby nodded as you went down the list. Part of him was actually paying attention to the orders, but another part, mostly his imagination, was strongly wondering if you would mind terribly if he fucked you on the bar after-hours, that pretty dress pulled down and your breasts pressing hard into the cold wood. The bar was up pretty high though, he would have to hold you up by your waist since your toes couldn't touch the ground. You wouldn't have any leverage, so he'd get to do all the work.

 

“...and Undyne says she want 'all of the shots', which I'm not sure what that means, but I'm hoping you do.” Grillby nodded, a little absently, you thought, and gestured back at your booth. You nodded and thanked him before returning to your seat.

 

*** 

 

So letting Undyne have 'all the shots' was a terrible idea. Particularly because she has a habit of pouring her shots into other peoples drinks when they weren't looking. According to Papyrus, it was a test of focus. You, on the other hand, had not focused hard enough and were almost seeing double. It also might have helped if someone told you about this 'test' before the fish-woman had snuck about three shots into your drink at various moments. Even the eventual arrival of fries and burgers didn't help knock the edge off your buzz.

 

Still, you were having a blast. Sans, Alphys, and you were all eager listeners to the tale Papyrus, with the help of Undyne, was spinning. You were almost positive half of it was inflated, but the younger skeleton just seemed so animated to tell it, and it was really was a good story, even if some of it seemed too surreal to be true. Then again, a talking skeleton was telling you a story, so who's to judge?

 

“...AND THEN, I SUMMONED MY GREATEST ATTACK, BUT ALAS, THERE IS THIS DOG, YOU SEE, AND HE- OH, HELLO GRILLBY!”

 

You jerked up from where you were slumping over on the table to turn and look at the living flame who, in your hazed mind, had just suddenly appeared from nowhere.

 

Grillby shrugged apologetically as pointed behind his shoulder at the clock. You didn't know how, but it was already 2am. You knew for a fact the bar closed at 1am on weekends, having walked past the hours listing every Wednesday for months.

 

“Oh, no, we're so so so sorry Grillby!” You gasped, appalled, you apology blending in to Ayphys' stuttered and similar sentiments. You had never wanted to be one of those late-stay people, but here you were.

 

Grillby waved off your apologies. Truthfully if it were anyone else, he would have been annoyed, but for you and your friends, it was no trouble. He cleaned and prepped everything but the booth you were sitting in, and he had been enjoying the stories you shared so freely with one another.

 

Slowly, the lot of you wobbled out of the booth, Papyrus the most steady on his feet, having only had un-spiked tea. He also had to help everyone with math as you tallied up the bill, which led to about 15 minutes of 'NO SANS YOU CANNOT PUT IT ON YOUR TAB'.

 

After having paid in full, plus a generous tip, Undyne leaned heavily on Alphys as the two ambled slowly towards the door, Papyrus lifting Sans, not unlike how he had at the museum entrance, with several grumbles. Sans who was completely blue in the face and noticeably refusing to move.

 

“Papyrus, are you driving everyone home?” you asked, concerned. No one else was in any state to drive, so you were extremely relieved when he nodded in the affirmative.

 

“OF COURSE HUMAN, I WOULD NOT LET MY FRIENDS WANDER FREELY ON THE STREETS INTOXICATED!” he turned back towards the door, but paused, “HUMAN...HOW ARE _YOU_ GETTING HOME?”

 

All eyes turned to you, and you smiled nervously. You had thought of this, you honestly had, but that was before you had drunk so much more than you were expecting (thanks Undyne). With a few fumbles, you managed to unzip your purse and pull out your transit pass “I took the bus to work, and it runs all night on the weekend, so it'll be fine.”

 

You jumped as a warm hand wrapped around your wrist, your yelp dying in your throat as you looked at Grillby, who lowly shook his head. You didn't need a translation for that one. There was no way he was letting you go out _that_ drunk, in _that_ dress, _that_ late. You wilted a little under his disapproval.

 

“I...I AM SORRY HUMAN, MY CONVERTIBLE ONLY FITS FOUR...THOUGH I SUPPOSE WE COULD PUT SANS IN THE TRUNK?” he offered. He wouldn't really, even you knew that, but the offer was sweet and you told him so.

 

“BUT HUMAN, WE MUST GET YOU HOME SOMEHOW, I COULD...NYEH...” he danced nervously in place, jostling Sans awake. Or, 'awake'. You weren't sure those lights of his weren't peeking out on occasion during the conversation.

 

“______ could stay with grillbz, he's a good guy. safer 'n' the bus anyways.” the small skeleton suggested, giving Grillby a lazy smile.

 

You turned to the elemental, who still hadn't let go of your wrist. You glanced from his hand to his face, and he let go as if scalded...or iced, maybe. “I couldn't impose, this is my own stupid fault, the bus is fine, honest.”

 

Grillby hesitated. No, it wasn't fine. He wanted you safe. And he could...he could keep you safe. He could keep you safe and control himself. In what appeared to be a recent trend, he was pulled from his thoughts by an outside force. This time it was twin shouts from just outside the door.

 

“I SHIP IT!!”

 

Undyne and Alyphs, upon being caught, leapt away from the glass door as though they hadn't expected to be caught.

 

Grillby wasn't sure what they meant, but it sounded lewd enough that he was turning blue again, and your drunken blush was spreading down your neck. The elemental put a hand on your shoulder and waved his hand towards the kitchen in invitation.

 

Were you really going to do this? You didn't really know Grillby. Not really. But you didn't really know Undyne or Alphys or Papyrus either, and you trusted them enough to let Papyrus drive you home, had there been room. And you had only known them for a day! You chewed on your lip as you mulled it over in your alcohol-dunked brain.

 

“I don't want to impose, but...” you looked up at the small, half-asleep skeleton, who nodded encouragingly, before turning to your favorite bartender “I guess it'd be ok.”

 

You weren't sure, but you thought you saw Grillby smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, what's coming up next?!  
> Come find me on tumblr [here](http://mostlynaked-probablyporn.tumblr.com/), I love a good chat! Keep in mind it's NSFW


	5. Coal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get settled in at Grillby's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks. I got stuck for two weeks. Life happened and then I got writer's block and everything was terrible and I'm so, so sorry. Things will heat up next chapter, I swear. Feeling meh about this one.
> 
> As usual, you can find me on my [Tumblr](http://www.mostlynaked-probablyporn.tumblr.com/).

How a monster who didn't speak managed to talk you into his bed, you'd never figure out. You had offered, insisted really, to take the couch, but the fire monster was having none of it. So there you were, in his clothes, in his bed, in his home.

His home, coincidentally, was a loft apartment right above the bar, the staircase neatly tucked away in a short hall between the bar's back wall and the kitchen. Even if you weren't drunk half our of your mind, you still would have gaped at the elemental's home. It was all white walls and tasteful rugs on hardwood floors. You counted at least three bookcases lining the wall behind his couch, and even from a distance you could tell that most of the books' spines were bend and ratted from reads and re-reads. The lighting was soft, coming from several lamps scattered around the living room. All in all it was...empty, really. Cold. There were no pictures on the wall or knick-knacks on the coffee table. It was beautiful, to be sure, but felt distinctly un-lived in, like a set for a magazine. The thought twisted in your heart unpleasantly, but your concern was brief, Grillby's warm hands on your shoulders becoming an immense distraction as he guided you deeper into his home.

You felt your blush deepen as he directed you into his bedroom. You stared at the large white comforter covering the bed. Surely he wasn't going to...was he suggesting...? The heat of his presence disappeared abruptly, and you resisted the urge to shiver. Instead, you turned, only to find him opening a door you hadn't noticed before.

He gestured for you to enter before reaching through the doorway and flicking on the lights.

Oh! Now you got it. The only bathroom was en suite to his bedroom. Grillby rummaged through the cabinet hung on the wall, pulling down a towel and handing it off to you.

“T-Thank you,” you said, mostly to the towel in your hands. He ruffled your hair again, crackling softly as he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

You groaned happily as you sat down on the edge of the tub, pulling your heels off and flexing your toes. You hadn't noticed they were bothering you, but now that they were off, your relief was palpable. Suddenly, a shower sounded amazing. It took some stretching and arching to find the zipper on the back of your dress, but with that out of the way you stripped quickly, stumbling a few times are your brain still lagged behind your eyes by several seconds. Hopefully the shower would sober you up so you didn't look too much more like an idiot in front of Grillby.

You had long ago decided that the worst part of staying at someone else's house was the shower. Some had knobs, some had levers, a few had both, and none of them ever worked the same way twice. Still, with a long groan of the pipes, you got it work, poking the single lever this way and the other until steam filled the air.

The hot water helped sober you up considerably, though there wasn't any soap or shampoo you could use to get yourself really clean. It made sense though, Grillby was made of fire all the way through, as far as you could tell. Though, something in there was solid. You lifted your hand up to your shoulder where the elemental had touched you previously. No, his hand was heavier than yours. You frowned and pushed down a little harder. There, that was about right, but his hand was much warmer and bigger...You jerked your hand away once you realized what you were doing. The red in your face wasn't just from the hot water anymore as you rang your fingers through your hair as if trying to scrub your actions from your brain. It wasn't working.

Having done all you could do without actual supplies, you turned off the shower and dried off, contemplating your clothes. You didn't have anything to change into other than your dress, though you could ask if Grillby could lend you a shirt. Then again, he'd already done so much. You bit your lip as you dithered.

On the other side of the door, Grillby was having a similar problem. He had found a pair of old sweat pants that might fit you, along with a novelty t-shirt Sans had given him ages ago that the elemental never bothered wearing. But perhaps he was being too forward. Though he couldn't imagine why you'd want to sleep in your dress, wearing someone else clothes was probably strange, stranger still that you'd be wearing that someone's clothes, in that someones house, for an impromptu sleep-over. Grillby had to strong suspicion he was overthinking it, but he didn't want to scare you away. His experience with human customs and behaviors were mostly limited to his time on the battle field, though from what he had gleaned from human media since coming to the surface, this was...acceptable. Probably. Maybe. He steeled himself and knocked on the door.

 

 

To his relief, you had accepted the clothes with a smile, changed in the privacy of the bathroom and...and here you are. Him on the couch, having set up a makeshift bed for himself with spare pillows and a sheet. You in his bed, in his clothes. The pants barely fit with the drawstring at it's tightest, but it would do for the night. The bed was soft, with a thick white comforter and soft cotton sheets. You were now more or less along with your thoughts. You snuggled into the sheets and curled on your side. The pillows smelled faintly of smoke, though it wasn't unpleasant. More like the far-away chimney smoke on a cold winter day. You smiled and unwrapped yourself just enough to click off the light on the nightstand.

 In the dark, the room still seemed to pitch and roll slightly. Ugh, how much had you actually drunk? With a sigh, you closed your eyes against the dark of the room.


	6. Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Grillby have a frustrating night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still amazed on the daily how many people like this. I'm just a derp who like to write smut, guys. 
> 
> This one is short but sweet, but I have something fun cooking for the next chapter.

You woke up with a start, the remnants of your dream swirling away to the edges of your memory. Your hair clung slightly to your damp skin as you looked around the room to re-orient yourself. You didn't have the motivation to go digging through your purse for your phone (you weren't sure where you left it anyways), but you guessed it was still really late at night, or rather, really early in the morning. It was still dark, just the barest hint of blue coming through the window where the curtain didn't quite meet the sill. Odd, disjointed shadows were cast along the wall was the wind shifted the trees outside. It added to the eerie surrealness in the quiet room. You strained your ears, but the rest of the house was silent save for the steady thrum of electricity in the walls.

Why were you up anyways? You shifted irritably, trying to fight off the encroaching awakeness and fully intending to re-fluff the pillow and drop off back to whatever you were dreaming about. As you twisted, a strong warmth in your abdomen caught your attention, throbbing to life as sleep shook itself free of your brain.

Oh.

That's why you woke up. _Shit._ You took stock of the “situation”.

Your breasts felt heavy and tender on your chest, nipples already hard and rubbing against the soft cotton of your borrowed sleep shirt. The heavy warmth inside of you pulsed as pressed your knees together. Your thighs were smeared with fluids that had leaked out around your panties. Your panties, by the way, were completely ruined. Well, at least you knew what you were dreaming about. Going back to sleep was going to be problem though. Unless you took care of the problem.

Snippets of the dream spiraled back to you as you reached down to run a finger along your slit through your underwear. Warm hands on your hips, in your mouth. Something thick and long pushing its way inside you. A dull roar, like a distant bonfire. No wonder you were soaked through. You shivered as you remembered the heated tongue of your dream lover running along your neck, up to the shell of your ear.

You pressed harder against yourself, sucking in your breath through your teeth. Were you really going to do this? In Grillby's house? In Grillby's bed?? You rubbed rougher than intended at the thought, your hips stuttering up into your hand. Ok, yes it was a bad idea but – you slid your hand into your panties and swiped a finger across your slick folds,– but...but...oh _fuck_. Rational thought was quickly going out the window. Your finger pushed aside your swollen folds and slid inside you easily with a soft, wet noise, pressing deep until your palm was flat against your mound. Good, but not enough. You added a second finger. Better.

The room was quiet save for your soft sighs and the rustle of sheets as you worked yourself to finish. You tried crooking your fingers up, spreading your legs and reaching deep for that soft pad of flesh you could only ever seem to reach on accident, and even then only with one of your toys. No luck tonight, your fingers just weren't long enough. Or thick enough. Or _fast_ enough. You wanted so much more.

The spring inside you wound tighter as you shifted the angle of your fingers, hoping for more relief, a more solid feeling of fullness. Frustrated, you rocked your hips against your hand as you shifted to thumb at your clit, rubbing it in frantic circles.

It was...lacking, when you came. You arched off the bed, smothering your whimpers in a pillow as your walls clamped rhythmically on your fingers, but there was no real sense of relief from the incessant burning in your gut. It only shaved away the feeling of immediate need. Too soon did a wave of exhaustion follow your pleasure, leaving you feeling overstimulated and under-fucked. Your fingers came out with a thick 'plup' and with a grimace, you wiped your fluids off on the inside of your borrowed sweatpants and prayed Grillby wouldn't notice.

Oh shit. Grillby. You had forgotten he was- and you had just-! Great, now you were tired, horny, and _guilty_. A much less sexual moan was muffled with your, er, his pillow. Behind your eyes, the twinges of a burgeoning headache had started. That was going to be hell to deal with in the morning. Maybe you could sleep it off, along with your guilt. You rolled over in a huff and jerked the covers over your head. It was worth a shot.

 

 

On the couch, Grillby dreamt of conquest. His hands were covered in blood, already dry and flaking off into the air. His armor hung heavily on his shoulders, and the weight of his sword hurt his heart more than his hand. The battlefield was bare. Bare of grass. Bare of enemies. Bare of life. The earth under his feet was scorched. Behind him, a village burned as his army rounded up those who tried to flee his flames in the village. Those too weak or old to battle. Survivors and refugees. Helpless. The king said to take no prisoners, to leave no one behind to warn those ahead. The human's screams were shrill over the roaring of flames. Grillby screamed with them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have so many plans for this, it's just the actual 'getting to the good part' that I struggle with.  
> Feel free to bother me [here](http://www.mostlynaked-probablyporn.tumblr.com), as usual.


	7. Flare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heated, but not in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this is so, so late. I meant to have this up ages ago.   
> Thanks again to all your wonderful kudos-leavers and commenters and anyone who stuck with my sudden absence.   
> Now, on with the show!

For the second time that morning, you woke up with a start, but this time it was not due to a heated dream or surge of arousal, but because the entire apartment was filled with a keening wail. It sounded like the scream of a wet burning log, only horrifyingly more...pained. Even after the noise faded, the pain seemed to linger in the air.

The sound tugged at your heart, spurring you into motion. Actually, that was pretty uncomfortable but accurate description. You reached up and rubbed at your chest hoping to soothe the abrupt throbbing. You glanced down fast enough to see a bright flash of something disappearing back into your breastbone. What the actual fuck? You pulled the shirt's collar forward and looked down. Nope, nothing there. Ok, ok, screaming first, weird flashing-lighting-bug-chest later.

You lurched out of bed, stumbling as you untangled yourself. It was bright enough now to see where you were going, but the wall provided much needed support against your early morning wobbles as you made your way quickly but clumsily to the living room.

Grillby was already sitting up, stock still on the couch he had obviously slept on. The sight gave you pause. His eyes (holy shit, he had eyes?) were wide and glassy, unseeing. His flames were low, the color closer to roiling coals than the usual bright orange and yellow flames you were accustomed to. You had a sinking feeling you knew where the sound came from now.

“G-grillby?” You took a few steps forward and paused, hovering nervously between the bedroom door and the couch. No response. You called out again, louder this time, and took a few tentative steps forward. You couldn't tell if his eyes were following your movement, as they lacked any form of pupil, but the rest of him was frozen...or as frozen a living flame could stand to be.

“Hey, now, it's...it's ok.” You reached out a hand, slowly, hoping to wake him up without startling him. He startled you instead. Just before your fingers could make contact with the fabric of his night-shirt, he jerked back, his hand coming up to wrap around your wrist as he leaned away.

Once when you were very young, and your mother was cooking, you had brushed by a hot pan while trying to help. The feeling of his hand on your skin was much the same. A rush of cold adrenaline was your body tried to pull away without you, followed by hot pain lancing up your arm, tearing a cry from your throat.

Grillby was deep in a dream. Trapped in a battlefield, it didn't matter which one. There were so many. Through the smoke, something had gotten close. He was the only monster left standing. He usually was. Another human then. With a snarl, he reached out, grabbing his attacker and preparing to pull it down into his blade when- everything dissolved with a sharp cry.

His home. His couch. _You._ The elemental let go of you quickly as though he was the one burned. That's right, he remembered, his mind catching up to the present day quickly. You stumbled backwards, cradling your burnt arm against your breast. Oh. Oh no, what had be done?

 

He froze, his hand hovering in the air towards you. He knew from experience that humans burnt easily, but he hadn't meant to! But he still hurt you. He didn't know how to treat burns. So you would have to leave. You would be afraid of him now, of course. Maybe you'd never even come back to his bar. His metaphorical heart felt heavy at the thought. Still, even if you returned he'd make sure to never touch you again. Never allow himself to be the barest hint of a threat towards you. He would protect you with his distance.

 

You froze, your arm pulled to your chest in pain and surprise. A moment trapped in time. Your choices spiraled out before you, unwinding themselves like bright red threads of fate. You could leave. Go somewhere to get your wrist looked at. Never get so drunk you have to crash at someone elses' house ever again. And never go back to Grillby's out of shame and embarrassment. Or maybe you could go back, after a while. After your skin healed and held no trace of damage. But would Grillby forgive you for running away? Would you forgive you for running away? Well, there was always door number three...

 

You smiled shakily, “It's...it's not so bad.” you said, trying to reassure both the flame elemental and yourself, “It, u-uh, might not even blister.” Your skin was turning an angry pink as you brushed your fingers over the handprint Grillby left behind. “It's, yeah, it's fine. Like a sunburn. Not even. I've had way worse, actually. Once when I was eight my parents took me to a water-park, and -ha, oh, man, you don't even know, I couldn't move for _days_ , not even to walk, I just shuffle-stepped around until-” an abrupt movement from Grillby cut off your nervous chatter, and you watched silently as he turned on his heel, his hand waving you to follow him almost as an afterthought. You followed him quickly into his kitchen. Like the rest of his apartment, it all was very modern, all clean lines and sharp edges. Grillby's flame reflected like an agitated lava lamp off of the stainless steel and granite as he bee-lined it to the sink.

 

“Wait, no, it's fine!” you gasped, catching on as he reached for the faucet, “I can get it.” Grillby looked at you with that appeared to be a raised eyebrow, and turned the knob, stepping away quickly to give you room. “Oh, I...sorry, it's just, you don't really do water, I thought maybe...” you shuffled, your face as red as your burn now as you ran your arm under the cool stream. You sighed softly in relief, much of the pain fading to a dull glow.

 

You left your wrist under the faucet for a few minutes more, enjoying the feeling of that painful heat washing away down the drain with the water. Grillby watched you nervously, unsure if you'd need anything else, but his unasked question was answered when you turned off the tap and grabbed a paper towel from the nearby roll, patting it dry. “It should be fine now,” you assured him, “And, uh, sorry about the whole faucet thing.”

 

Grillby smiled tightly. Your concern about the tap was just that. Concern, easily waved off and forgiven. He waved his hand, dismissing your apology but careful to watch your reaction. You didn't shy away or flinch. You were, in fact, taking all of this fairly well.

 

You met his gaze with one of your own. And smiled.

 


	8. Hearth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sooo much awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks is in order for everyone who has stuck with me so far, and an equally big thanks to any new readers who made it this far! Now on with the show!

You could taste the awkward in the air, a tense feeling that smothered the both of you into silence. You and Grillby had relocated back to the couch, though it hadn't escaped your notice that Grillby was sitting as far away from you as he could. He wasn't looking at you either, staring instead at some fixed point a little to your right.

Unable to take the unnerving quiet, you leaned forward, “Look, Grill-”

“ _I'm sorry.”_

You were stunned into silence. Frantically, you scrabbled the inside of your mind for an appropriate response. “You can talk?!” That was not the appropriate response.

Still, the fire elemental smiled and tilted his head, _“It is uncomfortable. Difficult. I am... I do not even have lungs naturally.”_

“W-well shut up then!” You raised your hands in a placating motion, “I mean, sorry, no, but,” Grillby waited patiently as you sorted out your thoughts, “Don't...talk if it's troublesome. And especially not to apologise! It was an accident!” You had gone from vague hand flailing to pointing now, cutting off the flame before he could try to speak again, “I mean it. My hand isn't about to fall off, and it will be good as new in a week, so don't beat yourself up over it. I shouldn't have, uh, bothered you, I guess.”

Grillby seemed to sigh and ran a hand through the flames atop his head. Resolutely, you held out your undamaged hand, flat and palm up. “I won't do it again. It's fine. I'm fine.”

Grillby searched your eyes for any hint of hesitation and found none. Slowly, giving ample time for you to pull away, he reached back and laid his hand on yours. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and curled your fingers up around his. Grillby's warmth crept up your arm as you gave his hand a small tug, scooting yourself to the middle of the couch. Grillby huffed out a tired crackle, and shifted to sit closer to you.

***

“You know, I'm really surprised you have eyes. I never saw them behind your glasses. Too much glare.”

Grillby blinked in surprise, and turned to look at the coffee table. There sat his glasses, folded up and unworn since the previous night.

It had taken a while, after the eventful morning, but you and Grillby were finally warming back up to each other. At his insistence, you had eaten a plate of scrambled eggs and downed several glasses of water to chase away the last hints of a hangover. All that was left was to get back in that little black dress and walk-of-shame it back to your apartment. Oddly enough, that hadn't happened yet. Grillby seemed more than content to have you sit on his couch and chatter away. You'd call it a conversation, but he seemed to take you admonishment about speaking to heart, answering in only fiery snaps and body language.

“Hey wait, why do monsters even need glasses? Can't you fix it with magic?”

Grillby crackled out a chuckle, taking your uninjured hand and gently lifting it to his face. He closed his left eye as the tips of your fingers came near, pressing lightly where Grillby had guided you, up to the ridge of his brow, and pulling down slightly to just above his eye. The elemental let go, and you repeated the movement on your own. Once, twice, and then you felt it. A thin ridge, hidden by the swirling flames of his face, where it was colder than the rest of the flames that made up his surface.

“A...a scar?”

Grillby nodded minutely so as to not disturb your careful touches. Carefully, the pads of your fingers followed the stripe of cold, tracing the line down across face, over his eyelid, to where it ended on the swell of his cheekbone. Or where the bone would be. If he had them. You still weren't sure how Grillby worked yet. Briefly, you considered asking how he got it, but maybe, if he had wanted you to know, he would have told you. Since he can talk. Apparently. You leaned in curiously, but you couldn't see past the flames that flickered rapidly over his face.

 

Grillby blinked his eye open as you removed your hand, letting it rest absently on his cheek. You could tell his eyes were focused on you, despite the lack of pupil. His eyes were just sharp shapes among the flames, a roiling white with yellow flecks. No sign of damage, or any indication that his sight was less than perfect.

The elemental shifted, his head tilting into the palm of your hand. You sucked in a breath through your teeth. You hadn't noticed how in-his-space you were, but you were practically on his lap!

“S-sorry!” you moved to take your hand away, angling to get back on your side of the couch, but you were stopped by Grillby's much larger hand covering yours.

“ _I'm glad,”_ he rasped, _“that you are not afraid.”_

His voice was low but clear, undertoned by the dull rumble of his fire. It was a nice voice, you decided, but troubling his enough to use it was the last thing you wanted. So, with one hand captured, the other injured, you leaned forward and bumped your forehead lightly against his.

“This again?” You rolled your eyes as Grillby nodded, “Well...then I'm glad you believe me finally. But, eh, maybe leave the talking to me? Since I have lungs?” You had meant it in jest, but started at the sharp crackling noise that came from Grillby has he released your hand. You began to backpedal, eyes widening until you caught sight of his grin, the same molten white of his eyes peeking through the sharp edges of his maw. He was _laughing_ at you!

You sat there, waiting in a faux-pout for him to stop. As the crackling laughter subsided, he gestured for you to go on. So you did.

You talked a little about work, and what you loved about it. You told him about your apartment, which was just a little too small than you wanted but just right for what you needed.

The fire elemental watched you with interest. As a bartender, he was used to listening to people talk, and sometimes even enjoyed it, but you? Oh, he could easily listen to you for ages. You didn't just talk, you acted out your stories, making faces, pantomiming situations, and making looping gestures in the air to make your point. Occasionally he would nod or crackle to encourage you to continue where you stalled but you were very animated on your own.

 

Around noon, the conversation lulled into comfortable silence. You sighed.

“Well, graceful exits were never my strong suit, and I should probably get out of your, uh, “you glanced to the top of the elemental's head, “cinders?”

Grillby nodded understandingly as you stood. He knew you had to go home, but was sad to see you leave anyway. He kept himself busy in the living room as you changed back into your dress from the night before in his bedroom.

“This has to be the oddest walk of shame I've ever done,” you said as you emerged, “But I really can't thank you enough for letting me stay. It's been...well, weird, but nice. Sorry I drank so much that this was even a thing...” You looked at the floor with a flush.

Grillby reached out and ruffled your hair in his usual manner. “ _You're always welcome here_.”

You scowled, ready to scold him for troubling himself by talking again when what he said actually sunk it. “Oh! Well...er...Yes! That sounds great! I mean, whenever, that's cool!” Smooth, really smooth.

You managed to leave with minimal further flailing, promising to see Grillby again on Wednesday, as usual, while he walked you to the front of his shop to let you out. With any luck, you wouldn't have to wait too long for the bus.

Grillby wandered back into his apartment, absently making his way to the bedroom, where it smelled the most like you. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed and picked up a pillow. While he wasn't one for naps, he certainly hadn't slept well that night, and the bed was already smothered in your comforting scent.

He paused, bringing the pillow up to his face. It smelled like you, certainly, but sharpened with the thick smell of arousal. It sent a pulse of warmth straight to his groin. Well, so much for a nap. Grillby found he suddenly had a more pressing matter to attend to.


	9. A Surprise Flare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise is waiting for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! I'm not, I swear! I just got really sick. Hooked up to tubes and all that. Then I had to move. So my life was in boxes. But I'm feeling better and unpacked and ready to go!

Monday greeted you like a slap in the face, as Mondays generally did. But the spring in your step you had since staying with Grillby had survived even the commute to work. The triple espresso you had sloshing around in your travel mug may have helped your mood too.

So far so good, you thought optimistically as you punched in your code to the back of the museum. You were on time, fully caffeinated, and completely not still thinking about your weird weekend. Hadn't even crossed your mind. At all.

But Mondays have a way of sneaking up and surprising people. This Monday in particular surprised you with the presence of a large goat standing in your makeshift office. And Todd, you noted, though he was barely visible behind the large furry frame of your visitor.

You froze in the doorway, your brain slowly processing the massive monster standing awkwardly in your small space. You blinked slowly. Once. Twice. No, the goat was still there. Well, alright then.

“_____! There you are!” Todd had finally caught sight of you. You waved meekly, “Come, come, oh I have exciting news! It's wonderful, yes, ah, but first!” He slid out from behind the shadow of the monster and gestured toward your offices' guest, “_____, this is King Asgore. Your majesty, miss _____.”

Asgore. _King_ Asgore. A king was standing in your office. The _King of Monsters_ was standing in your office because the only chair was your rolley-chair that was too small for the King. _The King in Your Office_.

“HI! It's so nice to meet you!” You were a little too loud, but powered through the internal screaming and stuck your hand out, a large, fluffy paw easily enveloping it in a friendly shake.

“Howdy! It's lovely to meet you as well, but please, just call me Asgore.” The goat-king smiled, bright and genuine, “Todd was telling me about your excellent work putting together the ocean exhibit. I must say, it's quite impressive!”

Your ears burned with embarrassment, “Oh, thank you, but I didn't do very much at all. I usually just, you know, log things and put them places,” you gestured vaguely to the stacks of boxes and paper that surrounded your desk.

“Nonsense, you've done so much more than that for us!” Todd finally squeezed around the friendly giant, his eye bright with excitement, “Which is why we have something special we'd like you to do...”

* * *

 

 “So I've been getting all these crates of stuff. Not just scavenged human stuff, but these massive carvings and history books and pictures,” you stuffed a few fries in your mouth, chasing them down with a soda, “And it's going to be a permanent exhibit that I'm completely in charge of! And, 'in case I have any questions' I have the kings phone number in my cell. I can text the _King of Monsters!”_ You punctuated your sentence with another bout of angry fry waving while Sans watched in amusement. “It's crazy! They should be giving this stuff to, I dunno...important people! People with PHDs and years of experience. Someone who can...” you shrugged and shoved more fries into your face.

“do better than you?” Sans suggested with his usual lazy smile. You nodded emphatically.

It was Wednesday at Grillby's again, and while Sans had twice tried to steer towards talking about your weekend, you weren't having it. You hadn't actually even thought about your 'sleep-over', as Sans kept calling it, until you walked into the bar, almost on autopilot, and saw Grillby wiping down a table.

It took some of the steam out of your stress-rant that you had prepared, the both of you turning a little redder and bluer, respectively. But the bar was busy that night, so Grillby couldn't linger behind the bar to chat. You were surprised how much you missed having him to talk to along side Sans.

“i don't geddit though, isn't this the kinda stuff you want to be doin?” Sans raised a brow-bone curiously.

“Well. Yes.” You stared down your burger, “And I'm thrilled, I really am. But I'm not an expert in any of this. I'm a stock-girl for super-expired stone tupperware.”

“gotta move up in the world somehow,” Sans shrugged through a mouthful of ketchup, “ and between you n me, asgore has been wanting something like this for a while. a way to tell our history. to tell our story. s'just been hard to find a way that won't be ...skewed. we want somethin' honest. the good and bad.” The din of the bar seemed to have faded somewhat, distant in the background as Sans fixed you with an unusually level stare, “i gotta ask you though. d'you think you can do that for us?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me long enough, I know, I know, I'm so sorry! But, since you've made it this far, I have a question. Would you rather me continue to update as I can, off and on through some ongoing medical issues, OR stock up and finish the story, releasing the chapters on a more reliable schedule after a long hiatus?
> 
> You can also yell at me on my tumblr (mostlynaked-porbablyporn.tumblr.com) if that's what you're into. Keep in mind it's NSFW


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